


Bending The Truth

by ashamedbliss



Category: Muse, Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Angst, Comedy, Crossover, F/M, M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-23
Updated: 2013-08-23
Packaged: 2017-12-24 10:19:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/938800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashamedbliss/pseuds/ashamedbliss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt and Dom’s 1965 Ford Mustang breaks down on the highway during a roadtrip through the United States after the Black Holes and Revelations tour. Their attempt to find a repairman in the nearby town of Mystic Falls earns them far more than they bargained for...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. mischief

**Author's Note:**

> No TVD spoilers past Season 1. For Muse fans who haven't seen TVD, there's an introduction post [here](http://bliss-fish.livejournal.com/662.html).
> 
> Originally written with fishofpwoper on livejournal.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys go searching in the town’s local bar for some help...

It was one of those endless days.

Dominic shifted awkwardly in the seat, a single, unpleasant bead of sweat rolling down his back as he moved. He had been sitting in the same position for almost three hours now and the lack of energy was starting to show. His eyelids were drooping, but as he forced to keep them open, he reckoned that without the incessantly babbling man beside him, he’d have fallen asleep at the wheel and crashed the car into a tree long ago.

“…because in the vacuum of space, the wind wouldn’t affect the flag’s movement, yeah? And then on the videos, when Armstrong puts the flag down, it flutters in what’s definitely a breeze. In the vacuum of space, it wouldn’t move, you know? And if you look really close on the pictures, right, you can see the same backgrounds on different pictures which were apparently miles away or something. And there’s this thing called the…” Matthew paused to reach over and sink one of his long, bony fingers into Dom’s arm. “Dom, are you listening?” He brushed a strand of jet black hair from his eyes, pouting heavily in Dom’s direction.

“Intently,” Dom murmured with a long sigh. “Please, go on.”

Matt narrowed his eyes in Dom’s direction, suspicion etched over his angular face. “Okay. Where was I? Oh, yeah. There’s this thing called the Van Allen radiation belt, right, and if they went through that when they left the atmosphere – wait, yeah, which they _had_ to, ‘cause that’s the only way to get out of the Earth’s gravitational pull and towards the moon, isn’t it? Anyway, when they went through the radiation belt, they’d have been fried. It’s pretty obvious.”

Dom sighed, leaning back in the seat and trying to compose himself. He’d dealt with Matt’s unending chatter for longer than this, and in far worse states than he was in now.

“Dom?”

Matt’s tone had changed from ‘very annoying’ to ‘slightly less annoying’, so Dom decided to give him a chance.

“Yes, Matthew.”

“Do you smell burning?”

Three minutes and a quarter of a mile of desolate highway later, the bonnet (“hood, Dom, it’s called a _hood_ over here”) had been opened and the smell of burning had been confirmed.

“I think it’s the carburettor,” Matt stated, one hand on his hip and the other scratching his hair. Dom squinted at him in the late afternoon sun as the dark-haired man stroked his chin.

“Do you even know what a carburettor _is_?” Dom asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Nope, but that’s probably what it is,” Matt said, far too chirpily for Dom’s liking. Sighing, the blond slammed the bonnet closed which caused Matt to yelp girlishly. He smirked.

“I don’t exactly know what it is, but I’m sure it’ll manage the last mile into the local town,” he said calmly, lowering himself back into the driving seat, Matt doing the same to his right. “What was it called again? Magic Balls?”

Cocking his head to the side, Matt attempted to make sense of the sprawling map in front of him. “Mystic Falls, I think. They better have a bar, I am in serious need of some wine. I don’t do car journeys,” Matt sighed dramatically, falling back into his seat.

“Really? I’d never have guessed,” Dom mumbled to himself, as he put the car in gear and tentatively pulled back onto the highway. Next stop, Mystic Falls.

*

Matthew slipped out of the car first, glaring at it distastefully as if it had personally offended him. He stood for a while beside the open door, stretching in every way known to man, while Dom looked on, amused.

“I’m knackered,” the frontman complained loudly as he proceeded to crack his knuckles, a habit which Dom detested. “This car hates me, my arse hurts from all that sitting down and I really need a drink.”

“Karma’s a bitch,” Dom sighed, patting Matt on the back and squinting around in the last rays of the setting sun. Mystic Falls looked friendly enough; it had the charming air of a place that wasn’t home, and the people weren’t throwing him suspicious glances or attempting to steal his clothes – all terribly good points in his book.

“Look,” Dom said, his arm raising subconsciously and pointing towards a friendly-looking restaurant. “There’s a bar over there, should we go and see if anybody can help us?”

“Fine, sure, whatever, I don’t care,” Matt sniffed, nose high in the air like a small town bar would damage his reputation. Dom rolled his eyes, locking the car as they started walking.

“Seriously Matt, stop being so arsey, or I’ll never drop that ‘sexy zeta’ comment,” Dominic warned, crossing the empty street towards the opposite sidewalk…

“I said that in my sleep!” Matt whined.

“But the fans don’t know that, do they? C’mon, lighten up. What could be worse than a day or so stuck in this town?”

Matt opened his mouth to make a comment, however he just huffed loudly and followed Dom through the entrance of the bar.

Dom stepped into the bar first, sliding his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and peering around. It was all very homely, if a little dark, with panelled wood and low-hanging lights. Something about the darkness, though, seemed to make the place (Mystic Grill – he had seen the sign hanging over the door) a little more friendly.

Of course, Matt had something else to say about the establishment. He screwed up his formidable nose and pouted. “They could change the bulbs or something. I can’t see a damn thing.”

Dom resisted the urge to trip Matt up and instead pushed him towards two stools at the bar. He sat down, rubbing his eyes tiredly and hoping beyond hope that Matt wouldn’t start up his conspiracy theories again. Evidently, though, Matt was beyond conspiracy, as he sat down at the bar, fiddling with his long fingers and sighing from time to time. He was the picture of innocence, long nose turned downwards, eyes half-lidded with lack of sleep. Dom found himself staring at his best friend. Again.

He couldn’t help it. It was almost unconscious, the way his eyes drifted to the hollows of Matt’s cheekbones, or his long, feminine fingers, or, oh God, the way his lips curled at the corners and the delicate shadows of his eyelashes dipped over his cheeks…

Dom blinked, rubbing his eyes and yawning widely, just as a young bartender popped up in front of them. “Can I help you guys?” he asked, with a clearly forced smile.

“Yeah, er, I’ll have a JD and coke, and my friend—”

“Red wine, cheers.” Matt’s voice was distant, as if the diminutive frontman was somewhere else entirely.

“You alright, Matt?” Dom asked, as the barman turned to get their drinks.

Matt nodded, his eyes unfocused. “‘Course. I’m fine.” He gave a half-arsed smile to the barman as he dropped the drinks before them. Matt’s long fingers curled around the stem of the glass, his small pale lips wrapping around the lip and taking a long sip. His eyes fluttered shut for a long while. “Feel better now,” he muttered, almost to himself.

Dom smiled, inwardly relieved. He swallowed some of his drink, relaxing a little as he felt the liquid slide down his throat.

“Did you tell Damon about that old Chevvy you picked up?”

Female, teen, American. _Of course._ Dominic spun minutely on his chair, still facing Matt, who was cautiously inspecting his immaculate wine glass. Biting back a remark about government controlled listening devices, he tuned back into the conversation filtering across the relatively empty room.

“It’s not his business, is it? We’ve got room in the garage, that’s all that matters,” a male voice said, Dominic’s ears perking up at the sound of a garage. Was the man a mechanic?

Finally finding where the two people were sitting, Dominic’s eyes settled on a booth tucked away beside a pool table. The female was most definitely a high school student, with long brown hair, olive complexion and sharp looking features. _Keep her away from Matthew_ , Dominic remarked silently. The male was the complete opposite, of large build with pale skin. The guy you wouldn’t want to get in a drunken brawl with.

“You’ve still got that red Cadillac, right?”

“Yeah, still need to finish rebuilding the engine…” the man’s voice trailed off, Dominic swiftly nudging Matt’s foot with his own. Perking up, blue eyes followed grey and landed on the table Dom was not so covertly eyeing.

“Stefan, those guys are staring at us,” the girl whispered.

_Nice one Dom, way to make an impression._

Dom turned back to the bar to cower in his drink, Matt not even bothering to voice the obvious “what the fuck?” that shone so clearly in his eyes. A few seconds later, Dominic was putting his money on his own bet of ‘I’m about to get the shit kicked out of me.’

“Hey. Um, are you lost?”

Eyes slowly opening, one followed by the other, and a fist _not_ connecting with the back of his skull, Dominic decided it was safe enough for him to turn around and greet the threat.

“Oh hi, sorry. I couldn’t help but hear about you fixing cars, and well ours broke down on this highway and…” Dom trailed off as the man’s eyes flickered away, widening.

“Wait, aren’t you…?” A finger raised to point at Matthew, who was wearing a grin similar to that on the face of a child on Christmas morning.

“Matt Bellamy, yeah, hi,” he babbled, Dom rolling his eyes behind closed eyelids. It wasn’t the first time they’d been recognised on their road trip, but the occurrences were getting rarer as Black Holes and Revelations got older.

The man turned back to Dom with a smirk on his face. “So, you said your car broke down? I don’t just do normal cars, it’s just a hobby of mine,” he said.

“1965 Ford Mustang sounding good?”

The man grinned, and Dom felt a flutter of relief as the man extended his hand in greeting. “I’m Stefan. Nice to meet you.”

Dominic took his hand with an equally broad grin. “Dom. Hi. And this… well. Yeah.”

They both turned to look at Matt, who was running the tip of his finger around the lip of his glass, staring at it as if it held the secrets of life itself. It was a few seconds before Dom pulled his eyes away from the strangely endearing sight, to see that the dark haired girl had approached them.

“Elena,” the girl said with a smile, tilting her head as she looked at Matt. “Does he, er, do that often?”

“All the time,” Dom sighed.

Damon Salvatore was watching the scene unfold with a look of disgust on his face, drumming his fingers against the wood of the table. From what he gathered, some people were in some kind of predicament and somebody was doing something for some reason or another. He sighed, picking up his shot and swallowing the entire contents in one go, both upset and mystified by the events. It was so much easier, in his opinion, to do absolutely nothing unless it benefited him.

He watched the newcomers with interest, despite his preconceptions about their problems. English, by the sound of their accents. One with blond hair and a set of unfortunately large ears, and the other pathetically small, pale-skinned and with the look of a vulture about him. He seemed absorbed in his drink, on another planet entirely. Damon, quite amused by the little one, continued to watch him with a giddy smile on his face.

The thing was, a giddy smile on Damon Salvatore’s face approximated to the kind of smirk that set the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. He toasted his final shot to his invisible companion, mischief, before necking it with another grin. He already knew this was going to be good.


	2. game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damon meets Matt and Dom, and... _well..._

Matt fidgeted in the seat, visited with the familiar feeling that someone, somewhere, was watching his every move. He had been told a hundred times that it was paranoia, but he wasn’t exactly going to turn it off. What if someone really  _was_  watching him? Dom would be eating his words then. Matt allowed himself a victorious grin (resisting the urge to puff out his chest and let out a deep, booming laugh of triumph) and was slipping back into the realms of his imagination when he heard his name being mentioned.  
  
“Eh?” he said, half asleep. “What?”  
  
“Stefan’s bought a round,” Dom said, with a sharp elbow to Matt’s ribs.  
  
Matt scowled at the offending drink before him, a tiny glass of amber liquid. He sniffed it and recoiled, screwing up his nose. “I’ll just... stick with wine, if you don’t mind,” he said. Whatever was in that glass, it certainly didn’t smell like a shot.  
  
He glanced over to Dom just in time to see the drummer roll his eyes and declare, with a feline grin, “More for me!” He reached across and snatched the glass away before Matt could say another word.  
  
“That shot is a specialty around Mystic Falls, you won’t find one like it anywhere else in Virginia,” Stefan said with a proud grin. “Well, I’ve only let this bar make them, actually.”  
  
Dom grinned and dragged a hand across his mouth, setting the empty shot glass down on the bar. “Shit, that stuff’s strong,” he mumbled to himself, blinking hard to stop himself from going cross-eyed. The alcohol in his blood had suddenly begun to take effect, gradually making everything feel warm, fuzzy, and also loosening his tongue. “You made these? That’s so cool! I’d love to design shots. This is brilliant, what’s in it?”  
  
Laughing at Dom’s sudden declaration of admiration, he shook his head. “Ah, that’s for me to know and you to... well, hopefully not find out,” he smiled.  
  
Matt scowled.  _Smells like a global conspiracy to me._  
  
Meanwhile, a slightly less inebriated but just as sharp-eyed Damon kept his eye on the shot glasses. He knew exactly what was in them; he could  _smell_  what was in them from where he was sitting. Vervain. That was Stefan’s ‘special ingredient’. Ironically, it was also a poison of sorts, although he was quite confident the two British boys smiling and chatting away at the bar would remain unharmed. However, it did have other effects. It ruined Damon’s fun a little.  
  
However, all hope was not lost. Smirking, he noticed that the nervous looking one -  _Matthew_ , he’d overheard - had not drank his shot, his blond companion necking the two and completely ruling himself out of Damon’s fun and games for the next few days. Vervain would kill Damon in that dosage.  
  
“Time to shine,” he mumbled to himself. Ruffling his black hair so it sat just the way the girls loved, he stood with his drink in hand and sauntered towards the bar.  
  
The drunken blond man was slurring his way through a conversation with Elena when Damon arrived, all smiles. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” he said smoothly, a charming smile on his face as he locked eyes with a suddenly frail looking Matthew.   
  
The smile that had resided on his dear brother’s face slipped away like raindrops on the windscreen of a car. “This is Damon. My brother,” Stefan said, frost in his voice, “and he needs to  _back off_.”  
  
The atmosphere between the little group seemed to solidify to ice. Exactly the reaction Damon had anticipated. Nobody moved; nobody breathed.  
  
Dom’s hand shot into the air in an enthusiastic wave. “Hello there!” he said loudly.  
  
Damon assumed an affronted expression. “What did I do?” he whined, innocence painted into his tones.   
  
“Damon.” Stefan glared, authority much clearer than the daggers in his stare.  
  
Damon opened his mouth to reply, when he was distracted entirely by an almost inaudible mumble of, “‘Scuse me.” Matthew slipped down from the stool, blue eyes locked on the floor, weaving through the crowds and disappearing into the bathroom, the door swinging shut behind him. Damon smiled graciously. “I’ll just head on home then,” he said, giving Stefan a lewd wink. Elena rolled her eyes and muttered something, however for once, he didn’t actually  _care_  what she thought.  
  
No, tonight was about having fun. His way.  
  
When his brother had turned back to watching the blond fool explain something about flying guitars, Damon slid into the brightly lit and thankfully empty bathroom. Well, empty save for one cowering figure in the corner.  
  
“I know what you are,” Matt said, pressing himself into a corner of the room, not exactly his wisest move.  
  
Damon quirked an eyebrow. “Oh really,” he said, each word dripping with sarcasm yet masking the slight surprise the other man’s words had evoked. Surely there hadn’t been enough to suggest his true nature already?  
  
“Yeah, I do. You’re one of those government agents, aren’t you? The type I keep seeing in n-nightmares,” Matt stuttered, still trying to back away into a tiled wall. Damon squinted for a second, still trying to decide if the man was either on drugs, or insane. Or both, actually - he’d paid good money to see that in the past.  
  
“I’m probably a little bit worse than what you’ve seen in nightmares,” Damon drawled, slowly stepping closer to Matt. The frontman froze with shock, eyes as wide as saucers, his body disobeying every single command his brain sent it.  
  
“You’re not going to interrogate me or anything, are you? Because they did that for three hours when I flew into JFK...” Matt mumbled, glancing up at the man before him and promptly shutting up.  
  
“Oh, you have no idea what game I’m about to play,” Damon said, stopping his predatory advance and turning to one of the wide mirrors in the bathroom. “Wait, that sounds familiar. You said that yourself, didn’t you? Something about finding new games to play? I can’t remember, I must’ve been drunk if I listened to that album. But I digress,” he said in a lower tone of voice, locking eyes with Matthew once more.  
  
“G-game?”  
  
“Yes, game, little one,” he said, quickly closing the remaining gap between them with a few strides. Placing his hands either side of Matthew’s head, Damon had him truly trapped. “And these are the rules.”  
  
Matthew’s eyes darkened, his jaw jutting in a rare moment of confidence. “I’m not going to--”  
  
“You are going to kiss me,” Damon said softly, lips barely moving, eyes locked with Matthew’s as he easily slipped past mere persuasion. “You are going to--”  
  
“Why?” Matthew asked innocently, trembling minutely under Damon’s intense stare.  
  
Damon sighed impatiently, leaning back slightly. “You do realise that blond guy you rocked up with has been putting the moves on you all night, don’t you?”  
  
“Dom?” Matthew frowned, shaking his head. “I... no. That’s stupid.”  
  
Damon nodded reassuringly. “Yeah. That’s what I thought. Stupid. Because you’re just  _friends_ , right?”  
  
The slightest glimmer of doubt, of suspicion, flitted onto Matthew’s pale face before Damon seized his chance and locked eyes with him once more. “You are going to kiss me,” he repeated, not breaking eye contact. “You are going to enjoy kissing me and when you’ve finished kissing me, you’re going to forget our little conversation ever happened.”  
  
Matthew opened his mouth, but not to protest or argue. Matthew opened his mouth to lean forward, rising up onto the balls of his feet and pressing his lips against Damon’s. The taller man moaned in a mixture of disapproval and longing, eyes screwing shut as images of the thousands of girls he’d met in his lifetime flickered behind his closed eyelids.  
  
Meanwhile, Matt easily worked against the slightly resistant lips, his mind clouded with incoherent needs and wants, and the occasional flicker of his best friend’s face. The image pushed him over the edge, previously shaking hands blindly reaching to grab at Damon’s t-shirt. His memory pulled from an archive of many photographic stills the figure of Dominic’s bare chest, one he’d seen enough to know off by heart. One he never thought he’d be fantasising about.  
  
Suddenly, Matt found himself pushed roughly against the wall again, chest heaving and eyes wide open. Damon was facing one of the mirrors, one hand running over his face and the other curled into a fist at his side.  
  
“Oh, oh, oh,” Matthew mumbled to himself, feeling thoroughly confused. Why had he kissed that man? Why would he even kiss  _any_  man? Thoughts of Italian girlfriends went completely out of the window when he realised, with a heavy heart, that he  _enjoyed_  that kiss.  
  
“Oh fuck,” he cursed, before running into an empty stall and emptying his stomach.  
  
Damon sighed, rolling his eyes at his reflection. After prodding his cheekbones one more time, he turned around to find Matt on all fours with his arse high in the air, clutching the toilet bowl like it held the answer to life, the universe and everything.  
  
“Hey, bad wine or something?” Damon soothed, once again assuring himself that he could’ve made it on Broadway if it weren’t for his specialist diet.  
  
Matt looked up from the bowl, face possibly paler than Damon's, before snapping his head back into the toilet to heave once more.   
  
"Yuck. Don't miss that at all,” Damon said with a wrinkled nose, standing up and brushing off his knees. “I’ll be off, and no, I won’t be telling your  _friend_  that you’re in here puking your guts up,” he sneered. “Goodbye, Matthew, I really do hope we meet again.”  
  
Damon left, and Matt’s nightmare began.


	3. guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth comes tumbling out, with guilt and doubt in tow...

Dom rubbed his eyes tiredly, sipping quietly at another drink. He was beginning to feel exhausted; the happiness had ebbed away, receded, disappeared, and he was starting to worry about Matt.  
  
It wasn’t like the frontman couldn’t look after himself; it was just that Matt had been away for what was approaching twenty minutes. He’d seemed shaken, almost ill, and though Dom had been relaxing without hearing Matt’s constant chatter, it was a little unsettling. So when Matt - looking smaller than usual - slipped out of the toilets and carefully made his way back over to the bar, Dom’s worry was replaced with relief. Then absolute fear.  
  
Matt looked half-dead, pale and crumpled and sick. He sidled up beside Dom and tried for a smile, which disappeared somewhere on his face.  
  
“What the fuck happened to you?” Dom hissed, eyes wide.  
  
“Nothing. I’m fine,” Matt said bluntly, eyeing the clock. “Can we find somewhere to stay now? I’m tired.”  
  
Dom sighed, chewing his lip. “S’all gonna be okay, Matt. We’re gonna be heroes,” he said confidently in what he hoped was a comforting voice. He reached over to squeeze Matt’s bony shoulder and attempted a grin of Cheshire Cat proportions.  
  
Matt sighed, peeking around Dom and smiling apologetically at Stefan and Elena. “Sorry I left him with you,” he said in a small voice. “We’re going to find somewhere to stay for the night, so... cheers for looking after him and everything.”  
  
Stefan shrugged, smiling. “It’s fine. He was fine. Didn’t get into trouble or anything.”  
  
“That’s a relief,” Matt tried to smile, he really did, but it slipped onto his face as something resembling a grimace. “Come on then, Dom.”  
  
“Wait, where are we going?”  
  
Stefan stepped forward as Dom attempted to get up from the bar-stool, only to fall abysmally. However, Stefan had intervened at the right moment. “Um, there’s a hotel across the street that’ll put you up. You must’ve parked right next to it,” he offered, Matthew nodding along as he remembered. “Hey, d’you want me to help you get _this,_ ” a nod to a very drunken Dom in his arms, “and your bags to the hotel? Then I can take your car keys, if you want.”  
  
Matt was just about to open his mouth to complain when Elena spoke up.  
  
“Matt, we’re not going to steal your car. I mean, c’mon, who’s gonna steal from a rock star? I’m sure I’ve got an album I’d like signing, anyway...” she suggested, making Matt feel a bit easier but still nowhere near comfortable.  
  
“Thanks, that... that would be great, yeah,” he said somewhat distantly, leaving a few dollars on the bar as a tip and moving towards the exit of Mystic Grill.

*

The hotel room was small but open, with a small balcony clinging to the back wall. It gave a simple view of Mystic Falls which, Matt reflected as he grimly helped Dom inside, was better than a less-than-pleasing view of a nondescript back alley. He left Dom to make himself comfortable on the bed and disappeared to the bathroom. He stood in front of the mirror, running the cold tap and splashing water over his face in an effort to dispel the sudden onslaught of violent heat his body had summed up.  
  
“Matt?” said a small voice from the doorway. Matt’s fingers slipped over the tap as he attempted to turn it off, dabbing his face dry with a fluffy white towel hanging on the rack.  
  
“Yeah?” he called.  
  
“‘S the matter?” Dom slipped into the bathroom, face solemn. “You look ill.”  
  
Matt could still see the haze clouding Dom’s grey eyes, still smell the alcohol on his breath; he knew that Dom’s concern was, more than anything, an effect of his intoxication. But for some reason, Matt found himself balled up in Dom’s arms, standing, emotionless, in his friend’s drunken embrace.  
  
“It’s okay, Matt,” Dom said plaintively, patting the tiny frontman’s back. “You can tell me anything, you know that.”  
  
“No I can’t. Not _anything_.” Matt said quietly, shifting out of Dom’s arms. “Stop pestering me and sleep. You’re drunk.” He steered Dom out of the bathroom and pushed him onto the bed. “I’m gonna sleep at the bottom, okay?”  
  
Dom huffed and mumbled a slurred sentence, climbing under the covers fully clothed. “Tell me what’s up.”  
  
“Dom, shut up.”  
  
“Twat. Tell me now.”  
  
“Leave me alone.”  
  
“Tell me or I’ll cut you.”  
  
“Go to sleep, Dom.”  
  
“What the fuck is up with you?”  
  
“Shut up and go to sleep, Dominic.”  
  
“Tell me what’s wrong!”  
  
“Just _shut up_!”  
  
“Please, Matt.” Dom lifted himself up from the pillows, sliding down to the bottom of the bed where Matt had perched himself. “Tell me what’s upsetting you.”  
  
Matt glanced over at his best friend, face crumpling. Dom’s speech may have been slurred but his eyes were clear and concerned, and with a long sigh, Matt decided there was no point in hiding himself away from Dom. The drummer clearly wanted to know; who was Matt to hide the information?  
  
“Matt,” Dom said softly, nudging the guitarist’s shoulder with his nose. “C’mon, mate. You can tell me anything.”  
  
“I kissed a man in the toilet.” Matt whispered, a mortified blush colouring his cheeks.  
  
“Wh-what?” Dom’s eyes widened in surprise. “I... _what_?”  
  
“I said, I kissed a man in the toilet,” Matthew whispered, hands covering his face.  
  
“I got that bit, but why? Why, Matt? But Ga--”  
  
“Please don’t say her name,” he hissed, instantly regretting his harshness. He needed to keep Dom in his good books if he was to survive this trauma. Seeing as a hole didn’t open and swallow him up as he wished, he reluctantly revealed his bright red face. “I don’t know why, Dom. One minute I was in there feeling scared and then the next I just kissed him. I _liked_ it. I don’t know why I liked it, though. I’m so confused,” Matt barely muttered, head hanging low and fingers fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “I felt so wrong and dirty that I was sick. I’m so confused...”  
  
“Hey, hey,” Dom soothed, the slur still evident in his voice. “I don’t think any less of you.” Oh, no. Dominic did not think an ounce less of Matthew after this shenanigan. In fact, the drummer probably had more respect and admiration (if that was even possible) towards his best friend.  
  
“Thanks, Dom,” Matt said, finally managing a timid smile. “I think I’m gonna go to sleep now,” he said, shuffling towards his suitcase and pulling out a few things, before moving towards the bathroom and locking the door.  
  
Even through his drunken haze, Dom still swore he could hear a few muffled sobs through the thin wall of the bathroom.

*

Dom squinted around at the daylight, unpleasant as it was against his eyes. He rubbed his face over with his hand, weary and hungover. Matt had insisted on looking around the town, maybe buying some trinkets and gifts for the people back home, and in his current state, Dom had been unable to refuse him. The awful, haunted look still remained in Matt’s blue eyes, though, and it was starting to frighten Dom. The kiss shouldn’t have affected him so badly.  
  
The frontman was currently a few paces in front of Dom, staring around, eyes picking out features of interest. Dom jogged for a little to catch up with him and murmured a “slow down!”  
  
Matt turned to Dom, a quizzical eyebrow raised. “What do you want?” he asked.  
  
“I just... wanted to ask you something.” Dom said carefully, a comforting smile on his face. “Just a little thing.”  
  
“Okay,” Matt said warily, a tone of bemusement in his voice.  
  
“Who...” Dom sighed, scratching behind his neck. “Who did you... Ah... Who was it that...”  
  
“It was Stefan’s brother,” Matt whispered, eyes on the floor. “Damon.”  
  
Dom attempted to recall Damon’s face to his mind’s eye, struggling with all his might. Dark hair, it might have been. A strangely pointed face. But attractive, in an alluring sort of way. “Damon,” he said quietly. “Stefan’s brother Damon.”  
  
“Are you angry?”  
  
Matt’s voice was barely above a whisper by his side, prompting Dom to look down at him quizzically. Of course he was angry, but with absolutely no reason to be. Another man had touched _his_ friend, his _best_ friend who he also had a not so innocent crush on. But when Dom pushed away thoughts of strapping the frontman to a bed and fucking him senseless, he really did care for Matthew, and so here was the more rational anger. The fact that Matthew seemed distraught with his own actions was enough to set off the warning bells in Dom’s head - the singer never regretted anything. Ever. Not even that time they went skinny dipping as teenagers and someone stole their clothes from the bank of the Teign.   
  
“Dom?”  
  
“No, I’m not angry, Matt. I mean, I am. I mean, wait...” _What do I even mean?_ “Are you sure you did it? I mean...”  
  
“Are you saying that I made this up? That I’d purposefully remove myself from a nice social evening out, make up some complete _bullshit_ about a bloke kissing me and then puke up in a public toilet _just for laughs?_ ”  
  
Dom’s jaw hung low in complete disbelief. A trademark Bellamy tantrum.  
  
“Fuck you, Dom. I need some time alone,” Matt said, his tone more low and introspective than his words indicated. Crossing the deserted street, he ducked into a gift shop and out of Dom’s sight.  
  
“Well, shit,” Dom mumbled to himself, pulling his sunglasses off as the sun moved behind some ominous looking clouds. He squinted into the sky, attempting to see past the solid, real facts and into the things he couldn’t possibly understand: Matt’s evident confusion and upset. He had clearly been affected by Damon, and not in the way those religious nuts were _affected_. Matt looked ill, tired, drawn out. He was putting on a façade that may have fooled everyone else, but it certainly didn’t fool Dom.  
  
His jaw set, Dom suddenly felt a burst of hatred towards Stefan’s strange brother. Matt had never been so upset about anything before, and it was worrying Dom more than he could bear. So when he saw the very same brother strolling casually across the road (down, too conveniently, a deserted back alley), he wasn’t able to control himself.


	4. conspiracy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys meet a certain Caroline Forbes...

Sprinting across the pavement to catch up with Damon, Dom followed the man down the alley and, without thinking about it, lunged for him, grabbing him by the neck and pushing him against the wall. The man stared at him, eyes wide and confused. “What the... where the hell did you even  _come_  from?” he gasped, as Dom’s fingers tightened around his throat.   
  
“You took advantage of my friend,” Dom breathed, eyes dark and angered.   
  
Damon blinked, pressing one hand against Dom’s chest. “Well,” he said easily. “I wouldn’t exactly say that  _I_ took advantage of  _him_. He practically shoved me against the wall and stuck his tongue down my throat.” Damon coughed, tilting his head to stare at the brick wall behind him. “Much like you’re doing n--”   
  
“He was sick and you didn’t help him!” Dom yelled, hands shaking slightly. “He was upset and you didn’t comfort him!”   
  
“Well what was I  _supposed_  to do? I don’t even know him!” Damon paused to gently remove Dom’s hand from his throat, ignoring the strength that Dom applied to keep him against the wall. “Besides, I don’t know why he was so upset. He seemed to enjoy it. He must have been pretty drunk, though. Kept mumbling about a Daniel. Or maybe a Dick? Something about dicks, anyway...” He carefully disentangled himself from Dom completely, brushing away dirt from his leather jacket and slinking away, leaving Dom to entertain the notion that maybe, just maybe, Matt wanted him just as much as he wanted Matt.   
  
The walk back towards the main parade of shops was lonely, Dominic’s head full to the brim of confusion, and a sudden overwhelming urge to get the car fixed and get the hell out of Mystic Falls. All the drummer could do was hope that Stefan was far less evil than his brother, and that the car wouldn’t be rigged to kill them both as they drove away.   
  
Meanwhile, as Dominic began casually visiting each shop to look for Matthew, the frontman was stuck in a rather awkward conversation with an entirely different blonde as he sat outside a small restaurant.   
  
“I know!” the girl squealed, her blonde curls bouncing around her pretty features. “You’re Peter Faccinelli!”   
  
Matthew had absolutely no idea who this man was. He blinked, startled, and spluttered incoherently for a while. The presumably insane woman had introduced herself as Caroline and, since hearing from Elena that someone famous was in town, had made it her mission to incorrectly identify who Matthew was.   
  
“I’m not him, sorry,” Matt finally said to the girl, her eyes widening at the sound of his English accent.   
  
“Oh, you’re English! Oh!  _Oh_! Are you Frank Lampard?”   
  
Matt physically refrained himself from slapping his palm against his forehead in frustration.   
  
“Matt! There you are!”   
  
Dom’s voice floating on the wind to him was a soothing presence on the frontman, who immediately mellowed out and relaxed. The blond came into view, looking slightly startled as he regarded the very young and pretty woman sitting opposite Matt.   
  
“Oh, Dom, this is Caroline. She’s a student here. And Caroline, this is Dom, my drummer.”   
  
Caroline laughed, giving Dom a small smile. “You say drummer funny,” she giggled with that borderline irritating voice of hers. “Wait, you’re in a band?”   
  
Matt turned to Dom and rolled his eyes dramatically, Dom nodding slightly in agreement. The drummer slipped into one of the artsy looking metal chairs, shuffling himself away from Caroline and towards Matthew without realising it.   
  
“Nice to meet you, Caroline. Hey, do you know anything about... um, someone called Damon? He has a brother called Stefan?” Dom asked, watching carefully as Caroline’s smile disappeared in a flash.   
  
“The Salvatore brothers,” she deadpanned in a monotone, completely different voice. “Stefan’s alright, he’s going out with my bestie Elena. But Damon’s a nasty piece of work, you don’t want to get on the wrong side of him,” she continued, subconsciously rubbing the side of her neck with one slender hand as the other tapped the tabletop anxiously. Matt’s eyes followed the movement, spotting two angry red marks on the otherwise unmarred skin.   
  
 _Aliens, monsters, agents, Big Brother, vampires, Zetas, lizard people, zombies..._    
  
“Matt?”   
  
“Hmm, what? Sorry, I zoned out for a moment,” the frontman muttered, Caroline’s neck being obscured once again by her hair slipping from her shoulder to cover it.   
  
“Caroline said that the Salvatore family have been in town for a really long time. They’re actually one of the founding families of Mystic Falls,” Dom said rather excitedly, obviously much more relaxed than before.   
  
Caroline nodded in agreement, continuing. “Funny thing is, the original Salvatore brothers actually look _really_  similar to the brothers today. Also, one of the first inhabitants of the town looks  _just_  like Elena. Isn’t that freaky?”   
  
“Quite,” Matthew muttered as the conspiring cogs in his brain began whirring again.  _Marks on skin. Never aging._  
  
“So you and Damon aren’t friends, then?” Dom asked, trying to further his personal search for more information about the man he already hated.   
  
“Well... no. I don’t really like him, but he’s got an unnatural amount of persuasion. Maybe it’s the black hair. I’ve always found men with black hair sexy...” Caroline trailed off, eyes not so secretly checking Matt out. He gulped.   
  
“Persuasion? Like, he could get people to do something they didn’t want to do?” Dom was testing Caroline’s far flung boundaries of gossip and Matt’s nerve with the question, but he had to know. As Dom finished speaking, Matthew’s blue eyes shot him a warning glance, but they quickly softened with realisation, and the oncoming wave of confusion.   
  
“Isn’t that what I just said? Anyway, I’ll catch you two cuties in the Grill later, I’m going to the mall with Bonnie. See ya!” Caroline said as she stood up, practically skipping down the street.   
  
Dom cleared his throat. “Well...” he began, an awkward silence threatening to break out between them. His fingers found the paper menu on the table, his stomach growling in encouragement. “Lunch?”   
  
Matt nodded, allowing Dom to choose for him. Once the pretty waitress had taken an order for two hamburgers (after Matt had, for a reason Dominic presumed but didn’t want to vocalise, refused to have a pasta dish) and a bottle of wine, Dom leaned back in his chair, feeling slightly relaxed for the first time in the strange town.   
  
“Dom, I’m sorry about earlier,” Matt said in a small voice to break the silence, and the blond smiled sadly with forgiveness. “I... I was really mean, I’m sorry. It’s just so confusing, you know? I have no idea why I did it, still.”   
  
“But what Caroline just said, maybe Damon managed to persuade you?” Their wine arrived, Dom eying it cautiously as the throbbing in his head reminded him that he and alcohol still weren’t on good terms. Dom had a lingering hangover, and all the mysteries were not helping. He snorted to himself as a thought of the Mystery Machine sauntered through his mind.   
  
“Maybe. That would make sense, but you know I’m not easily persuaded,” Matt started, pouring the wine and then spinning the red liquid around in his glass. “But then again, he didn’t even persuade me.  _I_ kissed _him_ , remember? For whatever crazy reason, I did it. Even if he had persuaded me to kiss him, I’d still remember that. I remember everything else.” Matt paused, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey, Dom. Would it be entirely stupid if I said that I thought Damon Salvatore was a government agent?”   
  
Dom blinked. “Yes.”   
  
“Oh, right. Good,” Matt coughed lightly. “‘Cause I wasn’t gonna say that. I was gonna say that I think that Damon Salvatore is...”   
  
“Delicious?” Dom smirked, looking over at Matt, who scowled.   
  
“Don’t,” he snapped. “ _Anyway_ , I think that... maybe... Damon might not be... human.”   
  
Dom stared, opening his mouth to give an answer but reluctantly snapping it shut as the waitress returned with their meals. As soon as she walked away from the table, he whispered “What, you mean as in _alien_?”   
  
“No.” Matt’s eyes darted back and forth, scanning the nearby tables. “Maybe.” Dom tilted his head downwards, fixing Matt with a stare. “Yes. Just a little bit. Okay, maybe a lot. I mean, did you see those marks on Caroline’s neck?” Ignoring the splutter of incomprehension from the blond, Matt blustered on. “They obviously weren’t off a kinky boyfriend or something like that. They looked... inhuman. And about the original Salvatore brothers looking like Damon and Stefan - what if the brothers now  _are_  the original brothers? What if they don’t age?”   
  
Dom raised his eyebrows so high that they disappeared behind his fringe. He stopped mid mouthful and stared at the tiny man sitting in front of him, before resuming his chewing and swallowing, clearing his throat. “You sound like you think they’re... I dunno... vampires or something.”   
  
A look of comprehension dawned on Matt’s face. “Dom...”   
  
“No!” Dom said loudly, holding up his hands. “Forget I said that! No vampires! Matt, stop thinking what I know you’re thinking!  _Stop it_!”   
  
“Vampires!” Matt said excitedly, giggling a little. “This is great. This is really cool. Oh my God, Dom! _Vampires_!”   
  
“Keep it down, Matt!” Dom hissed, looking around at the other tables. “We’re strange enough as it is, here. They obviously don’t get tourists often, so we can’t afford to come in here with big new ideas. Stupid ideas at that, but we can’t speculate.”   
  
Matthew’s long fingers continued pulling the burger apart, shred by shred. Of course he didn’t want Italian, not after a very American man became his last kiss, in place of his Italian  _bella_. However, the frontman’s mind was, as always, elsewhere. “Do the townspeople know, Dom?” he asked, mischief sparkling in his eyes.   
  
Dom rubbed his eyes angrily, kicking himself internally for even suggesting the existence of supernatural entities. Matt wasn’t going to shut up about it now. “Finished?” he asked, nodding to Matthew’s plate where the remains of the meat sat. Neither man had finished their meal, their worries or hangovers hindering their appetites. Matt nodded enthusiastically, jumping up from his chair and pulling his wallet out in a flash. The blond didn’t complain about Matt not splitting the bill, as they began to walk away from the restaurant.   
  
“Why don’t we go in there?” Dom suggested weakly, pointing at one of the shops on the other side of the street. It seemed to sell commemorative plates and other kinds of rubbish that nobody really wanted: perfect for buying yet another useless gift for his mum. He practically dragged Matt across the road, the frontman gabbling incessantly about drinking blood and God knows what else.   
  
“Aren’t you even slightly afraid of the fact that you think there’s vampires running about town?” Dom asked exasperatedly as he and Matt neared the shop, not wanting to take their conversation inside so other customers could hear the insane theories of his friend.   
  
Matt cleared his throat delicately as they entered the shop, picking up a small china swan and inspecting it nonchalantly. “I think it’s kinda sexy, actually,” he declared, placing the swan back on the shelf and disappearing further into the shop, leaving Dom to gape after him. Today was going to be a  _long_  day. 


	5. knowledge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt shows Dom just what Damon did to him, and more...

Two hours and five trinkets later, Dominic felt dead on his feet. They had an hour or so before they had agreed to meet Stefan to pick up their car keys, the other man sure that the Mustang would be finished in time. The pair had collectively agreed to head back to the hotel to freshen up, with Matt being very supportive of this idea. Of course, once a new conspiracy theory had been born, there would always be the following intense bout of paranoia.

As Matt rifled through his suitcase for a change of clothes, Dom began to wonder just how much he believed the conspiracy theories he was always talking about. It was a little superficial of him to think that Matt only ever spoke about a hoax moon landing - or, indeed, vampires - to get attention, but he didn’t understand how it could be an interesting topic. To think that your own government was working against you... Dom didn’t want to have to live like that.

He watched the curve of Matt’s spine as the frontman pulled out a t-shirt and sniffed it experimentally, smiling despite himself. Matt was his best friend and one of the few people in the world he could really depend on. It was a damn shame that he also fell into the category of being one of the few people in the word he wanted to grab by the hips and make sweet love to. Well, the only person in the world. And Dominic Howard never wanted to ‘make sweet love’, so he knew that this  _crush_  he had was more than a little bit serious.

Dom sat down on the bed, eyes focused on Matt as the smaller man sat down on the floor, cross-legged, and began to pull all of the clothes out of his suitcase. He wasn’t entirely sure why Matt was trying to find something to wear that would impress others. Matt could walk into Mystic Grill naked for all Dom cared, and he’d be  _very_  impressed.

Dom shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut and sighing deeply. He had to stop thinking like that. It was more than a little creepy and if Matt found out, he’d go mad. Dom was one of the few people who had seen the small man actually  _angry_ , and it wasn’t exactly funny. But now that he thought about it, maybe Matt wouldn’t mind so much if he found out.

_After all, Matt’s already kissed a man, no matter how it was caused._

Dom found himself looking at Matt again, his mind racing with ideas and thoughts and feelings, none of which seemed to make any sense. What would it be like to kiss him, to feel their lips touch? Dom’s heart was beating uncomfortably, spluttering over the thoughts running through his mind faster than the speed of light.  _Oh, God_. He watched Matt scoop up a mismatched jumble of clothes and carry them into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. What would it be like to watch Matt change as he chatted confidently about anything that came into his head? What would it be like to watch him strip down to his underwear and crawl into bed beside Dom? To feel Matt’s head on his chest, fingers curling around his waist, lips mouthing the lustful words he had been waiting to hear--

Dom slammed his hands onto the bed a little too hard, feeling it shake under the impact.

“What was that?” Matt’s confused voice called. The bathroom door unlocked; the frontman’s fluffy head poked out. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Dom managed a strangled smile as he looked over at Matt. “I tripped.”

“Oh, okay,” Matt gave a mildly-there smile, looking as if he was already somewhere else, and disappeared back into the bathroom again.

As Dom pulled off his shirt and reached for the deodorant in his faff bag, a mildly frustrating thought crept into his mind, unbidden, pushing all other fantasies away.  _Damon Salvatore kissed him. Why can’t you?_

What would it be like to be Damon Salvatore? Dom tried to picture the toilets in Mystic Grill as clearly as he could. Where had they been standing? By the sinks, or were they in one of the cubicles? Dom’s stomach flipped, not unpleasantly, at the thought. How had it happened? How close had they been standing? What had it felt like, to kiss Matt Bellamy?

An image began to bloom in his mind. Matt, back flush against the wall, with Damon  _fucking_  Salvatore’s lips attached to his. They were standing quite still, kissing with soft, closed-mouth pecks at first. Matt’s long fingers drifted absently down Damon’s arm, sliding over the smooth leather of his jacket and curling around his wrist. Their kiss became stronger, more frenzied, tongues touching, breath mingling. Damon’s hands fisted in Matt’s hair, tugging and twisting the shiny black strands; Matt’s swollen lips parted in a delicate moan, the likes of which Dom had never heard coming out of his best friend’s mouth.

“Ground control to Major Dom...” Matt’s hazy attempt at Bowie swam into his ears. Dom blinked, staring at the freshly changed frontman, who was frowning with his hands on his hips. “Come on, Dom, get your shirt on; we’re gonna be late.” He popped his hips to the side, tapping his watch.

“What was it like?” Dom choked out, swiftly standing and grabbing Matt by his shoulders.

“What was what like?” Matt let out a nervous chuckle, squirming slightly.

“Kissing  _him_.” Dom spat, pressing his forehead against Matt’s and forcing their eyes to meet. “I need to know.”

Matt stood in silence for what felt like days, face impassive. His voice shook slightly when he eventually spoke, blue eyes clouded with what Dom recognised as pent-up anger. “Okay, Dom. You really want to know what it was like?” He took in a deep, shuddering breath. “I’ll fucking show you.” He pressed his hand to Dom’s chest, splaying out his fingers. “I kissed him like this.”

And then, with barely a hint of hesitation, he pushed himself up onto his toes and firmly attached his mouth to Dom’s.

It was strange, at first. There was no denying how odd it felt to realise that Dom was in fact being kissed by his best friend. It was also angry. There was a hint of frustration, of sheer fury, in Matt as he worked his lips against Dom’s. The drummer felt like he was made of clay, simply standing there as Matt’s tongue slid into his mouth, as Matt pushed him backwards until he fell onto the bed, as their breath mingled, noses touched, eyes met. And then Dom realised that  _this_ , this was what he wanted. He wanted Matt, wanted to hold him, kiss him, touch him. Why was he just lying there?

Dom lifted up his arms and slid them around Matt’s waist, tongue delving between Matt’s lips and tickling the roof of his mouth. The frontman squirmed above him, moaning his approval.

And just like that, Dominic’s mind was working again.

“Did Damon make you moan like this?” Dominic whispered as their lips broke apart, followed instantly by Matthew kissing him with a ferocity stronger than before. It wasn’t so much as that Dom was purposefully trying to mess with Matt’s mind -  _that_  mind was already ruined beyond recognition, what with the aliens and conspiracies. No, he just simply needed to  _know_. He wanted Matthew to tell him that he was better than Damon, that Damon was a mistake, that Matthew was trying himself with Damon so he could work his way up the food chain to Dominic.

Easily, Dominic rolled them both over, the sight of Matthew laying beneath him with wide eyes and a heaving chest having quite the effect on his lust.  _How far does Matthew want to go?_

The answer, timing its entrance perfectly, made itself apparent against Dominic’s thigh. The blond gasped, reassuring Matthew of his own feelings with a long grind into the body below him.

“Did Damon get you hard like this?” Dominic panted, repeating his grinding motion once more. However, instead of a shocked pale face staring back up at him, Matt suddenly decided that he wanted to  _play_. His hands moved to grip the tanned skin of Dom’s bare shoulders, bringing a feral growl out of the blond. Despite the hunger suddenly surging through his veins, Dom cautiously ducked his head, searching the eyes below him for silent permission to steal another kiss.

“No, he didn’t,” Matt choked out at the end of a keening moan, before lifting his head slightly to let his mouth brush Dom’s.

Matthew was on cloud nine, although he wasn’t sure if it was due to the moaning blond above him or the fact that he was getting the long awaited wank he needed. He felt a bit like a teenager as he started to push his hips up to meet Dom’s downward thrusts, not having dry humped in many, many years.

_But this is Dom, my best mate. What the hell else are we even meant to do?_

Simultaneously pushing those thoughts out of his mind and pushing up against a very hard, very  _male_ Dominic, Matthew decided to just fuck it all - the girlfriend, the confusion, the self-loathing - and enjoy himself. His breath leaving his body in short, sharp spurts, Matt licked his lips before pressing them to Dom’s once more, stomach quivering pleasantly as they moved together. Pianist’s hands were everywhere at once, the fluttering fingers never getting their fill. Their hips clashed, both hissing at the foreign contact, the one place they had never touched one another before.

Matt began to whimper softly against Dom’s neck, tongue darting out to catch a stray bead of sweat on the tanned skin. Dom held him still, grinding against his best friend with pure, unfiltered lust. “Dom...” Matt choked out, pulling at blond’s hair until they were looking directly at each other. “What are we--  _Oh_!” Matt dropped his head back against the pillow, a violent wave of pleasure rippling through his body as Dom continued to thrust blindly, spurred on by the lust that took over his entire body. “I’m gonna... I’m gonna...”

The impact of Matt’s unfinished sentences left Dom reeling, unable to tear himself away from the man beneath him. Lips crashed together again and again, sealed shut with the promise of something more, and as Matt let out a primal cry, Dom felt something sticky and wet seeping through Matt’s trousers. The frontman’s whole body was still quivering as Dom let go entirely, moaning loudly as he followed Matt over the edge he’d desperately been clinging to.

“Did Damon make you come like that?” Dom whispered by Matt’s ear a few calm moments later, nose brushing against his raven hair.

Matt moistened his lips with his tongue, lying flat against the bed. “N-no...” he mumbled.

The pair lay in silence for a while, coming down from the high of their orgasm but not daring to touch the other, for two different reasons. Dominic was sure that if he even looked at Matthew, with his eyes almost black with lust and hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, he’d reach out to touch his flushed skin and then not let go until they’d both crossed  _that_  line with a one-way ticket.

Matthew, on the other hand, was completely distraught. Each time he closed his eyes, the image of a beautiful Italian girl with round brown eyes would appear, only to be chased away by his grey-eyed best friend. For that reason, Matt stared at the peeling wallpaper above his head and listened to his own heaving breaths.

But as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t deny that Dom had made him feel good. More than good. Better than Damon had made him feel.

_Oh fuck, I sound like some kind of gay whore now._

Dom, oblivious to Matt’s inner turmoil, reached over to his side to grab a handful of tissues from the box on the nightstand. Rolling back over, he wafted one in front of Matthew, before placing it on top of his chest.

Standing up, the blond lifted one arm and sniffed timidly, pulling a face and grabbing the can of deodorant from his faff bag and a fresh pair of boxers on his way to the bathroom. The cards were in Matt’s hands now; he felt he had made it fairly obvious what he wanted. Who he wanted. Locking the door behind him, he decided that he’d deal with whatever Matthew was on the other side of the door when he was feeling much more fresh.

Matthew pouted at the locked door, a paranoid thought skipping through his mind telling him that Dom regretted everything, and was now avoiding the frontman. With a sigh, he sat up on the bed and rubbed his eyes, frowning as the tissue on his chest fell to the floor.

_Wanker_.

Matt undressed in record time, using the discarded tissue and a few others to clean himself up as best as he could. He threw on whatever clothes he could find, including the clean shirt Dom had picked out to wear that evening. Matt hurried over to the desk where, thankfully, some hotel stationary was arranged in a neat pile. Scrawling down two simple words and tearing the paper away from the pad, he placed it on top of Dom’s wallet, sure that the blond would see it, and fled the hotel room.

Mere minutes later, Dominic emerged from the bathroom, instantly aware that he was the only person in the room. Some of Matt’s clothes, his wallet and the man himself were missing. He spotted a piece of paper on his bedside table, and his stomach flipped once.

_I can’t._

“Fuck,” Dom cursed, sitting down on the bed heavily and feeling completely lost.


	6. stir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confrontation is _such_ a turn on...

Matt swallowed down the mixture of intense feelings rising like bile in his throat, threatening to burst out of him as he stumbled along the roads without a fixed idea of where he was going. The sun had crawled behind the horizon long ago and darkness surrounded him on all edges. He breathed deeply, trying to clear his mind. Preoccupied as he was with his feelings, he didn’t notice the hairs on the back of his neck prickling slightly. He should have done. He  _would_  have done. But he didn’t.  
   
Ten minutes later, he stopped by a nondescript wall, resting against it and pressing his forehead to the cold bricks. Taking deep, soothing breaths, he attempted to calm himself down. What had just happened between him and Dom was going to remain a complete and utter mystery to him, he decided. He wouldn’t attempt to quiz Dom about it, and he definitely wouldn’t act on it. He wouldn’t take Dom for granted or try to change anything about their relationship, because he didn’t want to do that. Did he?  
   
Matt raised a shaking hand to his head, kneading his eyes with his knuckles. “Stop fucking around,” he told himself sharply. “Pull yourself together.”  
   
He stepped away from the wall, wiping furious tears from his eyes and blowing out a sigh.  
   
“Nice night, isn’t it?” a smooth voice said from behind him, and he froze. “Little to no cloud cover, full moon... perfect weather for certain creatures of the night, don’t you think?” the voice drawled, and Matt didn’t have to think twice to know who the voice belonged to. It was that of the person who tormented him in his dreams the night before, the one who started all of this.  
   
“Damon,” Matthew deadpanned, his very best attempt at a greeting. Footsteps echoed in the narrow alley he found himself in as Damon’s form, silhouetted by lights from the main street, came into view. As he stepped closer to the frontman, Matthew could see his smug smile and dangerous eyes. Terrified as he was, he couldn’t help but wonder why on earth he would kiss Damon.  
   
“Ah, so you remember me,” Damon smiled, and a wave of nausea and déjà vu washed over Matt as he stepped backwards and immediately made contact with a cold brick wall.  
   
“Trapped, little sparrow?” Damon asked, his voice overcompensating on sweetness where his soul lacked it. Stepping forward, he leaned down to look into Matthew’s eyes, the smaller man twisting his head from side to side like a disgusted baby.  
   
“You’re not getting any of  _that_  from me, don’t worry,” the taller man said, lowering his head until he was level with Matthew. Dom’s shirt was too big on his slight frame, revealing two enticing collarbones and copious amounts of pale neck. Damon just  _had_  to have a taste.  
   
His nose trailed over the pale skin, Matthew’s breathing becoming erratic and landing hot on his ear as he did. Damon could smell the blood, sweat and sex on the frontman’s skin.  
   
 _Sex?_  
   
“Well, someone’s just gotten some,” Damon drawled, withdrawing himself from the aroma of Matthew’s blood to allow him to think clearly. Recently laid humans were dangerous; their partner may have had vervain in their system. And knowing who Matthew had been spending a lot of time with, Damon wasn’t quite ready to take risks, even though what traces were left  _shouldn’t_  be fatal for him.  
   
“N-no!” Matt squeaked, feeling more alarmed now than he did with the supposed vampire sniffing his neck.  
   
“Don’t lie,” Damon warned, getting ready to fix Matt with a particular stare.  
   
Matt saw this coming, though. Even though he had no idea why, every single one of his animal instincts was telling him not to look into Damon’s eyes.  _Hypnosis, a vampire’s power? Focus Matt, focus!_  
   
“It was Dom!” Matt admitted, screwing his eyes shut and awaiting Damon’s reaction. When the sound of dark laughter filled the night air, Matthew opened his eyes again.  
   
“I’m surprised you crumbled that easily, to be frank,” Damon said slowly, watching Matthew’s eyes dance from side to side, the streetlight making them glitter like tacky greeting cards, in Damon’s honest and brutal opinion. “I could  _smell_  that it was Dominic, you know. I could have  _tasted_  that it was Dominic, but you wouldn’t have wanted to play that game, would’ve you?”  
   
If even possible, Matthew’s eyes widened even further. “Does that mean... is it true?” he whispered, almost regarding Damon like his own personal God. Of course, egotistical Damon did not let this go unnoticed.  
   
“That I’m the sexiest man in town and that you want me? Evidently. Otherwise, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Now. Dominic. That leggy blond problem of completely the wrong gender, am I right?” Damon smirked as the smaller man gave a tiny nod, eyes quickly finding the floor.  
   
“I’ll take your stubborn silence as a yes, then. What’s with you Brits and all this angst?” Damon joked, smirking as he leaned into a shaking Matthew again, sniffing completely indiscreetly.  _It worked_ , he thought to himself, his aim of messing with both of the musicians’ heads complete within less than twenty-four hours of setting it.  
   
“I don’t know what to do,” Matthew nearly sobbed, voice strained and thick with fear. “I mean, he’s my best mate! And we just fucking dry humped each other like we haven’t had sex in years, or that we haven’t got girlfrie--” the rest of the word was cut off by a proper sob, one that shook the frontman’s shoulders and made Damon actually start paying attention. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you,” Matthew continued, unaware of Damon’s silent plotting, “I mean, I barely even know you, I’m still not sure if you’re a government agent or one of those things from that book, that can read everybody’s mind except the stupid girl’s for som--”  
   
“I think,” Damon interjected, Matt’s rambling becoming far too much for him to handle without a glass of whiskey in his hand. “That you need to go see Dominic, tell you how him feel, all for the better,” he lied, trying his absolute hardest not to grin with excitement when Matthew mumbled some form of agreement.  
   
Stepping back, Damon allowed Matthew to extract himself from the wall ( _with a sigh of relief_ , he noted wickedly), and head back down the alley towards the hotel. The receptionist seemed to be slightly alarmed when she saw Matthew with the other man, the action further cementing Matthew’s suspicions that Damon was bad news. However, the elderly woman suddenly became cheerful and waved to them both, Matthew throwing Damon an accusing look over his shoulder.  
   
 _Persuasion, mind control, hypnosis..._  
   
When they finally reached their shared room, Matthew tentatively knocked on the door. “Dom?” he called, sounding like the blond was his last hope. In context, he certainly was.  
   
“Matt?” A now fully dressed Dom wrenched open the door, eyes wide and panicked. Before Matt could speak, he was pulled into a bone-crushing hug. “Where the fuck did you go? Shit, you scared me!”  
   
Then, after a long silence (where Matt thought that maybe, just maybe, Dom had decided to forget  _the incident_  had ever happened too), the drummer’s eyes landed on Damon.  
   
“It’s you,” he said quietly, eyes dark.  
   
“Evening!” Damon raised his hand in an overly cheerful wave, grinning. “Found  _this_  sniffing about the town. Here you go.”  
   
He casually pushed Matt further into the hotel room, ignoring the frontman’s stumble. He leaned over the threshold but didn’t cross it, a disgusted expression on his face as his eyes swept the room. Matt huffed, standing somewhat defiantly at Dom’s side.  
   
“Either piss off or come in, if you’re going to be a twat. Don’t lurk like a stalker,” he spat, wrinkling his nose when Damon beamed at him.  
   
“So kind,” he drawled, “but thank you for the offer.” Stepping over the threshold a little too daintily for a grown man, he entered the room. Peering around, his eyes fell on the crumpled blankets on the bed, and he coughed lightly.  
   
“Well, this little visit has been awfully enlightening, hasn’t it?” Even as he spoke, his eyes were darting about the room, searching for more incriminating evidence. “What have you naughty boys been up to?”  
   
“What are you doing here?” Dom growled. “Go away.”  
   
“That’s not very nice.” Damon deadpanned, squeezing between them and strolling into the bathroom. As Matt and Dom stood in silence, they heard soft footsteps on linoleum floor, then an earsplitting crash. “Shit,” Damon’s voice floated to their ears. “Did anybody actually  _want_  that mirror?”  
   
“No...” Matt and Dom called out simultaneously, glancing at each other.  
   
“Oh, good,” Damon arrived in their midst again, inexplicably grinning. “Well. This is nice.”  
   
“Get. Out.” Dom spat, pointing at the door. “And leave us alone.”  
   
“That was mean.” Damon placed a hand to his heart -  _or where his heart would be, if he had one_ , Matt thought. “You’ve seriously wounded me. Right here.”  
   
“Just go.” Dom’s eyes softened slightly. “Please?”  
   
Damon rolled his eyes, pushing past them both and stepping out of the room.   
   
“Oh!”  
   
He turned smartly on his heel and quickly cupped Matt’s head in his hands, pressing their lips together. Matt squirmed in his grip, unable to pull himself away. The tiniest, most inhospitable part of him didn’t even want to.  
   
“What the fuck!” Dom shouted, stepping forward to push Damon away from Matt. Subconsciously, he noticed that whilst Damon’s eyes were open, Matthew’s had fallen shut. “Get off him! Who the fuck do you think you are?!”  
   
Damon roughly pushed Matt away from him into a wall, the frontman whimpering quietly from the loss of contact before his mouth fell open in shock, his pale hands hurrying to cover his face. Dominic’s wide eyed expression scared him, and he felt like all he wanted was to melt into the wall. The blond threw a furious look at Damon, expecting the other man to at least explain himself.  
   
Of course, he didn’t.  
   
Damon stepped towards Dom, an evil plan twinkling in his eyes. Automatically, Dominic stepped away from him until his back hit the wall, Matthew silently at his side. Summoning all his courage (because,  _yes_ , Matthew’s conspiracies were making his blood pump doubletime), Dom snarled the first thing he could think of.  
   
“Fuck. Off.”  
   
Lips crushed lips, teeth clashed and Dominic pounded his fists against the wall as Damon kissed him. Even though he was more than livid with Damon, the only thing he could think of was tasting Matthew on Damon’s tongue. Instinctively, the blond rolled his eyes to where Matthew stood next to him, an unreadable expression on his face.  
   
It was only a few seconds before the kiss ended, Dominic watching in disbelief as Damon was pushed away from him by Matthew, the frontman standing between the other two men as if to stop them from starting a fight. Suddenly, Matt spun around and locked eyes with the drummer, a  _very_  readable expression spread clearly across his features: lust.  
   
Matt licked his lips, pressing his palm to Dom’s chest and pushing gently. He didn’t know what he was doing, in all honesty. All he knew was that he couldn’t bear to watch Damon kiss Dom, but for what reason? Because he was his best mate?  _No_ , he thought as he stepped closer, his hand trapped between their warm bodies. No, it wasn’t that. Matt had finally realised that what had happened with Dom earlier in the bedroom, what had  _been_  happening for the last ten years of their lives, wasn’t just coincidence, or simply meaningless.  
   
Dominic was his drummer, his best friend, his  _constant_  in life and as Matthew realised all this whilst staring into those wise grey eyes he’d grown up with, he realised that all those things would never be enough.  
   
He wanted more.  
   
With no hint of hesitation, the frontman closed the impossible gap between them and pressed his lips against Dominic’s, the blond letting out a sigh of relief as he finally received the thing he’d been striving for.


	7. desire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I feel like the horizon..."

They moved backwards as one unit, Dom’s knees hitting the bed. He sat down, pulling Matt onto his lap and reaching up to pull his hands through the frontman’s tousled black hair. Matt’s breath mingled with his, Damon’s presence all but forgotten as their kisses deepened from simple pecks.  
   
Damon cleared his throat awkwardly, twiddling his thumbs as he watched the kissing pair thrashing about on the bed. Looking at it from where he was standing, it was awfully hard to tell where Matt ended and Dom began. He tilted his head to the side, the illusion too much to comprehend, and spied Matt’s long fingers sneaking under the hem of Dom’s shirt. “Well!” he said briskly, backing away slowly. “You two have fun.”  
   
Even seconds after Damon had disappeared from view, the door slamming shut behind him, Matt had forgotten everything about the man, his eyes only for Dom. It was strange, having never seen the blond like this beneath him. The familiar stirring sensation in his stomach flamed through his body, sending a shiver down his spine as his fingers brushed over the smooth, tanned skin beneath Dom’s shirt.  
   
He didn’t know what he was doing. He wasn’t thinking; he was simply acting. And yet, despite the fact that his brain was screaming at him to  _STOP_ , that was the very last thing he wanted to do. Spirals of pleasure zigzagged through his body, every single touch of Dom’s skin against his own a thousand times more sensual than their foray into sexual activities earlier that afternoon.  
   
Matt’s fingers found purchase on the smooth plastic circles that were the buttons on Dom’s shirt and, licking his lips, he carefully began to pop them apart, one by one, until Dom’s chest lay perfect and panting beneath him. Inquisitively, with the look of an innocent child, his palm flattened against Dom’s stomach, fingers spreading out over the skin. Pearl against gold. Beautiful.  
   
“Matt...” Dom’s voice floated up to him, and Matt looked up.  
   
“Yeah?”  
   
“Wanna fuck you.”  
   
Matt grinned clumsily, a blush colouring his cheeks as he realised that the words he’d heard being suavely murmured to beautiful women a hundred times before were finally being spoken to him. “Okay.”  
   
Dom shrugged out of his shirt, throwing it to the floor and pressing his lips to Matt’s once again. They rolled over and, feeling Dom’s weight on his pelvis, Matt couldn’t help but let out a soft moan, rolling his hips upwards to meet Dom’s. Their eyes met, oxygen passed between mouths and after a moment of simply lying there, looking, Matt felt Dom’s hands under his shirt. A quiet, keening moan interrupted the silence hanging pointedly in the room as Dom’s thumbs brushed over his nipples. Seconds after, Matt felt his arms being pushed upwards and his shirt being slowly peeled away from his slightly damp skin. He heard the soft  _flump_ of fabric hitting the floor, and then the subtle shuffles of Dom’s jean-clad legs as he inched his way further up Matt’s body. His lips pressed down against the pale column of Matt’s neck, parting slowly and licking a slow, teasing line across the alabaster skin. Seconds later, seconds which lasted forever at a time, Dom bit softly into Matt’s skin, the feral growl made by the frontman leaving him shaken and desperate. He made quick work of the mark he had set out to leave, sucking and biting and licking Matt’s delicious skin, taking a moment to admire the flowering red mark, before his hands moved slowly down to cup the undeniable bulge in Matt’s jeans.  
   
“Mmmm...” Matt’s fingers curled around Dom’s bare shoulders, lips drifting into a vague smile. “ _Dom_...”  
   
Dom swallowed hard, chewing on his lip as he stared down at the perfect sight beneath him. The ecstasy with which the frontman had whispered his name had been more than he had ever expected in that moment, leaving the drummer momentarily stunned. How many times had he dreamed that Matt’s lips would form that word, in that very context? He had heard Matt say his name in so many inflections: while laughing, while crying, while accusing, while singing in the fucking shower. Admittedly, more recently, Matt had taken on a far more  _lustful_  stance to saying his name but that moment was simply better than any other way Dom had heard his name said. With just the right amount of longing and lust, Matt had, in short, pulled Dom into the most intimate experience he had ever had with another person.  
   
And just when it was impossible for anything to get any better, the sound of a zipper being pulled down kicked everything upwards just that little bit further.  
   
Dom looked down, licking his lips as he watched Matt’s long fingers find purchase on his own waistband, fly opened teasingly. Everything was teasing, everything was tantalisingly slow, almost like a competition, the musicians’ resolves at stake. Matthew pushed his jeans down, his cock straining against his navy blue boxers, all the while staring into Dom’s otherwise distracted eyes.  
   
“M-Matt...” Dom stuttered, moving one of the hands that held his weight up from the bed to the elastic of the other man’s boxers, wanting nothing more than to just  _touch_  Matt.  
   
But everything had to be done slowly, remember.  
   
The next command came quietly, nothing more than a hushed whisper from the deepest part of Matthew’s vocal range. “Undress.”  
   
Dominic did as he was told, especially if his plans for the rest of the evening were to go as he wanted. Eyes forever locked with the blue ones beneath him, he reached with one hand to the button of his jeans but his hands were swatted away as his fingertips just brushed the denim there.  
   
“I didn’t say that I wanted you to do it,” Matt said rather confusingly, but Dom didn’t even have time to think of that as one of Matthew’s hands cupped him, the other deftly undoing the button and fly. Dom gulped hard, exhaling fiercely onto Matt’s fiery skin.  
   
“Are you sure?” Matt mumbled in response to the sudden change in Dominic’s breathing, his lips close to Dom’s ear. The simple words sent shivers down Dom’s spine.  
   
“Positive,” Dom whispered, his head dipping down to bring their lips together. “Are  _you_?”  
   
Matthew didn’t need to reply, his actions speaking louder than words as he started to pull Dom’s jeans down those long legs. His fingernails dragged against the soft skin, lips leaving a trail of kisses along his collarbones. Dom threw back his head, groaning loudly in anticipation, knowing that the man beneath him wanted this as much as he did. “Matt...” he muttered, reaching wildly until his hands found Matt’s silky dark hair.  
   
His jeans finally joined the rest of their clothes on the floor, and with one swift roll, Matthew was sitting on Dominic’s thighs with an impressive tent in his boxers. The sight forced another groan from the blond’s throat and he sat up, winding his arms around Matt’s waist before pulling the other man flush against him. Pressing their lips together once more, Matt’s hands drifted slowly to the waistband of Dom’s boxers, long fingers following the trail of barely visible hair from his belly button to finally dip beneath the elastic. After a long, meaningful stare into those beautiful blue eyes of his, his fingers finally wrapped around Dom’s painfully hard length.  
   
Dominic hadn’t known what to expect, ironically. The feel of another person’s hand so different from his own, especially from a man who knew very well what touches worked best in which places, was overwhelming to say the least. “ _Matthew_ ,” he breathed, looking through heavy-lidded eyes to see the man in question biting his lip as he moved his hand up and down Dom’s cock in a devastatingly slow rhythm. Removing his hand solely to lick his palm (a sight at which Dom moaned loudly), he resumed his strokes with a renewed determination.  
   
The room was still stuffy from their previous encounter, the summer heat merely increasing the sheen on Dom’s skin as he tried his best not to writhe on the bed. Through the waves of pleasure rolling through his mind, Dominic moved his left hand under Matthew’s forearm, sweaty skin barely sliding against sweaty skin. His hand sought out Matt’s cock, solely for the purpose of seeing the frontman’s face as he was being pleasured once again.  
   
Because, of course, that was now Dominic’s favourite sight, ever.  
   
Matthew’s eyes closed instantly, an uncharacteristically feral growl ripping from his throat as Dominic’s thumb slid across the bead of precome on the head. His own hand faltered, before picking up the pace once again.  
   
Dom couldn’t cope: the sight of Matthew so free and plain  _sexy_  combined with the pleasure tingling through his body was too much. Matthew lifted himself from Dominic’s thighs, only to lower himself again as Dominic suddenly realised what Matthew was doing: fucking his fist.  
   
“Matthew, please,” Dominic begged, toes clenching and hand squeezing a touch harder. Matt’s panting hitched, jaw falling slack for a second before resuming his pace.  
   
“Need you, Dom,” Matt muttered, and the blond knew he couldn’t last much longer. His hands found Matthew’s waist, the frontman relinquishing his hold on Dominic’s cock as he was rolled over again, back flat against the mattress with Dominic on all fours above him, looking positively sinful. “Just... fuck me.” Matt’s lips pressed against Dom’s jaw, hands sliding over his back. “Please.”  
   
Dom licked his lips and watched as Matt’s head fell back on the bed, the hair that wasn’t already sticking to his head fanned out in a spiked halo. The image that he’d fantasised over for far too long, currently waiting on his every move. He extracted himself with difficulty from Matt’s clinging limbs and, with a strange sense of humility, reached over to the bedside table, pulling over his wallet and beginning to rifle through it.  
   
“What are you doing?” Matt asked confusedly from behind him.  
   
“Condom,” Dom mumbled, somewhat embarrassed.  
   
Matt’s mouth fell open. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he spluttered, batting the wallet to the floor before pulling Dom back onto his chest. Their cocks brushed, and whatever Matt was going to say died at the tip of his tongue. “Oh,  _Dom_.”  
   
Mind focused on only one thing now, Dom brought himself back onto all fours, before pushing himself back onto his knees. The blond raised one hand to his face, almost as if to hide behind it but instead licking one long stripe across his palm. Matthew bit his lip as he watched Dom touch himself, giving his cock three slow pumps before guiding it towards Matt.  
   
The frontman whimpered as the head of Dom’s cock nudged against him, yet the blond wasn’t quite sure if it was sheer excitement or the anticipation of pain. Dom’s free hand found its way to Matthew’s hair, running through the black strands and muttering words of support, slowly pushing into Matt.  
   
No sound came out of Matt’s mouth, at first. His eyes, locked with Dominic’s, bugged slightly at the pain, face contorted in a silent scream. Then, he found his voice, several breathy whimpers barely making their way to Dominic’s ears. The drummer stilled, eyes flickering across Matthew’s face for directions, for guidance, out of sheer necessity.  
   
“Quickly,” he choked, Dom complying instantly.  
   
The frontman made a gurgling sound as Dom pushed into him completely, the noise breaking into a keening moan. After a few moments, Matthew gave Dom a shaky nod to continue, the latter starting to thrust his hips shallowly.  
   
It went without saying that Dominic was on cloud fucking nine. Matthew was tight and hot, but it was so much more than that. In those precious moments, Matthew was entirely  _his_ , no fans or girlfriends or other human beings to even be considered. Dominic  _owned_  the other man, and that thought was more erotic than any sexual act alone could ever be.  
   
With that thought resonating in his mind, Dominic shifted his hips to the right slightly on a particularly deep thrust, almost but not quite stopping at Matt’s reaction. The sight of Matthew with his back arched against the mattress burned itself into Dominic’s memory, the red line they had just crossed miles behind them.  
   
“Dominic,  _please_ ,” Matthew moaned, the request rising in pitch until it broke out as a scream, the hairs on the back of Dom’s sweaty neck rising to stand on end.  
   
“You okay?” Dom whispered, nudging Matt’s neck with his nose before pressing a kiss to the shining alabaster skin.  
   
Matt’s only reply for a few heartbeats was a long moan, his hands clawing against Dom’s back. “Feels good.” He muttered disjointedly, eyelids fluttering. “Hurts. Feels good though.”  
   
Dom bit his lip as he felt the heat of Matt’s body tightening around him. It felt so different to anything else he had ever experienced. It felt  _wonderful_. But there was that tinge of shock, of embarrassment, of fear. It was hurting Matt. On that, he began moving once more but at a tenderly slow pace.  
   
“Dom, you git,  _faster_ ,” Matt’s voice swam into his ear, fingernails digging into his back. “Again, that same spo-ohh!” Dominic had thrust in relatively the same direction as before, effectively silencing and filling Matt’s request.  
   
Heavy panting and the sinful sound of skin against skin filled the stifling room as Dominic increased his pace, metaphorically photographing every single expression that crossed Matt’s face as the pain receded. Matt’s hands traced lines across the skin of Dom’s arms, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as Dom pushed into him again and again. Their lips pressed together softly, hair sticking to their foreheads as sweat coated every inch of their body.  
   
“Dom,” Matt mumbled against Dom’s neck, hands moving down his back, long fingers gripping tightly. “Dom, I’m gonna...  _oh_...”  
   
Matt’s eyes rolled further into the back of his head than ever before, face a mask of pure pleasure, and for the second time that evening, Dom watched as Matthew came undone, the man beneath him spilling into the palm of his hand. Dom followed soon afterward, undiluted bliss pouring through his veins like wildfire. Matt’s lips pressed to his again, teeth nibbling softly on the swollen skin, and they lay there, motionless, for what felt like eternity.  
   
Dom pulled out of Matt with a groan, a fuzzy feeling in his stomach at Matt’s protesting whine. Matt’s head shifted until it was flush against Dom’s bare chest, and the drummer strained to keep his emotions in check as he wrapped an arm around Matt’s tiny waist. They lay there, perfectly content.  
   
“I feel like the horizon,” Matt whispered, pressing soft kisses to Dom’s torso.  
   
“What?” Dom blinked, smiling sleepily.  
   
“You know. Straight. With the world.” Matt paused, reaching up to drag his finger across Dom’s collarbone, content with simply touching, feeling, exploring. “I’m on the same level. You know what I mean?”  
   
And it sounded stupid, even in his own head, but for what felt like the first time, he knew exactly what Matt was talking about.


	8. hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damon doesn't _do_ introspective...

Damon rested his head against the brick wall, back flush against it as he attempted to calm himself down. His eyes slid shut as the cool night air washed over him. It felt like eternity since he had simply stood and thought. Approximately ten seconds later, he realised exactly why it felt like eternity.  
   
Damon didn’t do quiet and introspective.  
   
Screwing up his face as the past few days’  _shenanigans_  rushed through his head, he attempted to make sense of the jumble of images and thoughts and feelings crashed into his mind. Matt, Dom, Elena, Stefan, Matt, Caroline, Matt, Bonnie, Matt, Tyler, Matt Matt Matt Matt Mattmattmattmattmatt _dom_ \--  
   
His eyes flew open, breathing ragged as he attempted to push all thoughts entirely out of his head, because what he was thinking about really wasn’t meant to be in his head.  
   
What exactly had those two confused Englishmen got up to when he’d left the hotel room?  
   
He didn’t like to think about it. But he did anyway.  
   
Had they simply laid there and kissed? Or more? Matt had mentioned  _dry humps_ , for fuck’s sake. Damon screwed his eyes closed again, but the images just intensified. Two writhing bodies... doing what exactly? Even after Damon’s extensive lifespan, he still had absolutely no idea what possessed men to... _well_... He fidgeted uncomfortably, wincing a little at the thought. Why anyone would want to put something in  _there_ was a complete mystery to him, and according to the weedy little man himself, Matt didn’t want anything remotely like that.  
   
Matt. Damon inhaled sharply as he even thought about the name, just imagining the taste of that sweet blood on his tongue. What it was about that particular neck, he had no idea, but Damon always got what he wanted, and he wanted Matt’s blood. And if he didn’t get it, there’d be hell on.  
   
Within the blink of an eye, the vindictive and terrorising Damon was back, intent on playing only his favourite game tonight: hunting.

*

After too long, the two men had finally pulled themselves apart, showers (separately) required by both. Now fully clothed, the conversation had turned back to Mystic Falls.  
   
“We should get out though, walk about the town, seeing as we didn’t get to yesterday,” Matthew remarked, bending over double to tie his shoelaces. Dominic took no shame in openly checking out his arse, earning him a “cheeky!” and a wiggle of said arse on Matthew’s part. The white jeans he had picked out were greatly enhancing Dom’s view, and as he dropped to his knees to find his admittedly slightly crumpled leopard-print shirt, he snuck another look. Matt was - God help Dom’s obsession with all things kinky - affixing his braces to his belt. Dom swallowed hard, looking back at his suitcase and planting his face in the clothes to hide the blush staining his cheeks. Eventually, he pulled on a pair of black jeans and straightened out his shirt as best he could, standing up and shoving his feet in a pair of his shoes.  
   
Reaching onto the bedside table, Dominic pocketed the room key and picked up his watch. “I saw a nice resta-- shit!” he shouted, Matthew spinning around and straightening up to see what the matter was. “We’re late.”  
   
Matthew stood blankly for a few seconds, the blond able to see the cogs turning in an attempt at remembering past the vampires and the sweat and the sex and--  
   
“Stefan! The car keys! Fuck, we’re so late, c’mon Dom,” the raven haired man said in two seconds flat, rushing around to find his wallet.  
   
“S’here,” Dom said, waving the object in front of Matthew’s nose. Blue eyes rose to meet Dom’s, wide and shining with a brand new depth that Dominic couldn’t quite identify.  
   
Before they could distract themselves again, though, Dominic grabbed Matthew’s wrist and pulled them out of the hotel room, the door slamming shut behind them. They ran down a set of stairs neither recognised in their haste, ending up at the back of the hotel amongst dumpsters and alley cats.  
   
“Wrong way? Turn around and find the main entrance?” Dominic queried.  
   
“Nah, doesn’t matter. We’ll just go through that alley there,” Matthew said, pointing into the darkness; the yard had a frustratingly small amount of light falling into it. “And then we should be back on the main drag through town.”  
   
“I don’t think that’s a good--”  
   
But, as always, Matthew had left before he’d been able to hear Dominic’s warning. Dom rolled his eyes, gritted his teeth and, jamming his hands into his pockets, muttered, “Fine!” and stalked off in the opposite direction. The second he set foot back in the hotel, he stopped. Was it fair to leave Matt out like that, in the dark? But pride overtook him. When he got to Mystic Grill before Matt, Matt with his lovely face and his tight, pert arse, who’d be laughing then?  
   
Meanwhile, Matt was beginning to have second thoughts about the alleyway himself. He was sure he’d seen a rat scuttle into a drain and currently found himself peering at the wall where he’d seen movement. He didn’t like spiders, and he most certainly didn’t like rats. A thought crossed him then. What if spiders and rats bred to make... spider rats?  _Spats_. Matt swallowed hard and edged away, wishing Dom had decided to come with him and completely rethinking 1920s fashion.  
   
Matt nimbly slipped between discarded rubbish and dumpsters, hands fisted by his sides as he went. He looked over his shoulder. Again. And again. The movement was so constant, it seemed that he had developed a twitch. He didn’t like this - not one bit. Nor did he appreciate the chilling shudders that kept ripping up his spine. It felt as if something -  _someone_  - was watching him.  
   
And that was when a hand curled around his wrist, another hand pushing him until his back was flat against the wall.  
   
“I have wanted to taste you for over twenty-four hours,” a voice, a familiar voice, hissed against his neck. “I don’t wait that long.”  
   
And without warning, something hard and sharp slid into the skin of his neck, and Matthew cried out in pain instinctively.  
   
Expression frozen in a state of shock, his body continued without his control, without his reasoning. His heart thundered away in his chest, only making it easier for the man attached to his neck to do his job. His limbs weren’t moving, not even his legs kicking against the wall as he was pushed off the ground by the vampire; they didn’t seem to be attempting an escape.  
   
Not his lips, which parted to release a long, drawn out moan.

*

Dominic heard the scream. He’d heard it so many times before: on stage at the end of a high note, on the tourbus as Chris had tackled him to the ground in a game, just mere minutes ago as Dominic thrust into the smaller man again and again. Closing his eyes, he exhaled sharply. He needed to focus. He needed to find Matthew. He started running.  
   
Two corners later (“fucking alleyways, town’s made of them”), Dominic burst onto the main street, colliding with a form much larger than his.  
   
 _Oh God please don’t let it be Damon. Actually, if it’s Damon then--_  
   
“Dom?”  
   
“Stefan!” Dominic said, stepping back to see not one but two shapes silhouetted against the streetlights. “Elena, oh God it’s so good to see you two. We were late and I’m so sorry, but now Matt’s lost and I just heard him scream--”  
   
“Woah, slow down. Where did you see Matt last?” Elena said, laying a calming hand on Dom’s heaving shoulders.  
   
“I think we left the hotel by the back exit. He went down an alley--” Dominic stopped talking when he saw Elena and Stefan exchange a worried look. “What?” he asked, growing impatient.  
   
“We just crossed paths with Damon,” Stefan replied carefully, brushing past Dominic and entering the alley, “and he said he was heading that way. To hunt.”

*

_Dom._  
   
 _This feels quite weird, you know. It’s like, you can feel your life being sucked out of you. Ha ha, no. I mean, you can feel yourself growing more tired, and your eyes don’t want to stay open any more, and all you want to do is find a nice cozy corner and have a nap._  
   
 _There’s this darkness, all around. Don’t call me a twat, I know it’s night time. Wanker. No, there’s this darkness that offers that warm blanket and the cozy corner and you want to give in, you know? But then there’s that nagging feeling in the back of my mind telling me not to._  
   
 _It’s not the fans. It’s not Gaia, God no. It’s not Chris or Tom or Muse or the other US cities we’ve still got to see, or Stefan or anyone else you could name. It’s you, Dom. Dominic James Howard, you’re the sodding reason why I’m not giving in._  
   
 _So I’ll keep my eyes open, I’ll stay awake._


	9. dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dom has to choose between Matthew’s life and death…

Dominic chased after Stefan, only just managing to keep the pace. Elena had dropped back, waving the two men on as they wound through more and more alleys, the lights of the main street seemingly miles behind them. Dominic could hear nothing but the footfalls of his Converse hitting the ground beneath him and the wind rushing past his ears.  
   
After what seemed like an eternity, they found them. Stefan reached the scene just before Dominic, who stared on, not quite believing what he saw.  
   
Matthew was pinned high against the wall, a dark haired man -  _Damon_  - pressed up against him, keeping him in place almost a foot off the ground. Not like the restraint was needed, though; the smaller man’s legs weren’t even kicking out in an attempt to escape like Dom thought he should be, normally. Damon’s head was buried, seemingly, in the crook of Matt’s neck, but then Dom realised what Damon was doing. The strangest thing of all was that, for once, Matthew was silent. He wasn’t talking shit, he wasn’t screaming or crying, he was just completely quiet, save for a few whimpers.  
   
Then Matthew opened his eyes. Those big blues were vacant, missing that special ingredient that Dom had seen there so recently; lacking spark, lacking love; lacking life.  
   
 _Save me._  
   
“Damon!” Stefan shouted, charging towards his brother and ripping him away from Matt. The small, lifeless body flopped to the ground, legs folded awkwardly. As Stefan wrestled with Damon, Dom ignored every instinct in his body that was screaming at him to stay where he was, and ran straight for Matt.  
   
“Matt, please wake up,” Dom muttered, tugging Matt into his lap and wrapping his arms around his tiny, cold body. “Matt,  _please_.”  
   
Matt’s head lolled to the side, the clear imprint of teeth staining his bone-china neck. Dom had always thought of vampire bites as two tiny puncture marks but this, this was something else. It looked as if Damon had simply ripped a chunk out of his neck.  
   
Dom pressed his hand to the wound, not sure of what to do. In a sudden flurry of initiative, Dominic allowed Matthew’s limp head to fall into his lap as he leaned back, swiftly unbuttoning his shirt and scrunching it into a ball. He pressed the leopard print fabric against the wound, using his free hand to hoist a bloodstained Matthew into his lap, resting his chin on top of the head of dyed black hair.  
   
“The monster’s gone away now,” Dominic soothed, pressing the makeshift bandage tighter against Matthew’s neck. He reached out for a hand, the skin cold, clammy, and only the weakest of pulses to be felt through the skin. “We’ll be okay, Matty.”  
   
Dominic looked up towards Stefan and Damon, who seemed to be arguing over something.  _Arguing_. He wanted to pull them apart and scream at them, shout and swear and point at his friend, his best friend, the only person in the world who knew him inside out and say “look what you did!”  
   
“Damon, what the hell did you think you were doing?!”  
   
“I haven’t fed for  _days_ , Stefan--”  
   
“You need to feed him. Do you know who he  _is_?! If he dies at your hands, the whole world is going to know about who we are, and that’s trouble that we can’t handle alone.”  
   
“I’m not going to feed him, you feed him--”  
   
“Boys!” A high pitched shout echoed through the alley, and all three conscious men whipped their heads around to see Elena standing her ground. “Damon,  _please_ , feed him. He’s done you no harm.”  
   
Dominic’s eyes flicked between the girl and the darker haired vampire as they shared an intense stare, before the man nodded. He turned to Dominic, who instinctively held Matthew’s lifeless body closer and subtly kissed his hair.  
   
“Dom.”  
   
Dominic’s eyes swept over Matthew’s face, the shadow covering it growing larger by the second. He hadn’t heard the voice so tender before, and part of him didn’t even care if it was an act. He just wanted Matthew to be saved.  
   
Damon sighed as Dominic pulled Matthew closer to him once again.  
   
“Dom, listen. If you want Matt to live, you have to let me near him.”  
   
The blond held onto Matthew like a petulant child held onto a toy. He had no idea what Damon would do to him, he might kill them both there and then.  
   
“ _Stefan_ ,” Damon whined.  
   
“Dom, he’s not going to hurt you,” Stefan said, easily striding over to where the men sat and kneeling down. “Matt will survive this if he drinks vampire blood. It reverses the effects, it’ll save him.” Stefan sounded like he wanted to say more, but quickly closed his mouth and patted Dom on the shoulder, before standing again and backing away.  
   
Taking Stefan’s place next to Dominic, Damon crouched down and knelt on the ground. “You’ll need to support his head, sit him up,” he instructed, just before he ripped into his wrist. Wincing at the pain, Damon moved his bleeding wrist towards Matthew’s face.  
   
“Open his mouth,” he commanded, Dominic following instructions and gently pulling Matthew’s lips apart with his thumb. The blond’s warm skin brushed against the chill of Damon’s as the vampire fed Matthew, smearing blood over his lips.  
   
Dominic gulped, blinked, breathed. Matthew didn’t respond.  
   
 _Maybe we were too late_.  
   
Matthew gasped, chest heaving as he gulped down lungfuls of air, eyes darting around and surveying the scene. Acting on instinct, he pushed Damon’s arm away from his face and dragged the back of his hand over his lips, seeing the blood and looking around for an explanation. It was all too difficult to form words.  
   
“I’ll lead you two back to the hotel. Elena, go with Damon and make sure he doesn’t do anything dangerous,” Stefan instructed. Elena nodded and pulled Damon back towards the main street while the vampire muttered something about  _no fun_. Dom swallowed down the burst of anger that blustered through him, glancing down at Matt.  
   
He held the frontman as lightly as possible, one arm around his waist as Matt’s head flopped onto his shoulder as they stood up from the dank alley floor. “Dom...” Matt mumbled weakly, his voice cracked. “Dom, what...?”  
   
“Shh,” was Dom’s only reply. Moving to support Matt’s weight on his shoulder, Dom pulled his stained shirt away from Matthew’s neck, finding that, to his surprise, the wound had already stopped bleeding and was slowly beginning to heal. Stefan walked beside them, lips pressed into a straight line, face sullen and void of all emotion. The hotel seemed so much further away than it had been before, when the most important thing in the world had been car keys. But they made it, after what felt like five hundred lifetimes. Ignoring the confused receptionist in the foyer, they took the lift up to their floor. Dom walked slowly, Matt beside him and Stefan - his face an emotionless mask - stepping lightly behind them. Dom fumbled with the key in his pocket and unlocked the door to their room, gently laying Matt down on the bed and sitting himself awkwardly on the end, still topless but not caring for his own welfare. He looked over at Stefan, who was standing just outside the room, looking.  
   
A sudden, awful thought struck Dom. What if Damon’s attack had left Matt with little memory of their encounter only an hour earlier, or worse, no memory of the recent developments in their relationship at all? Dom felt like slapping himself, he was worrying. That was Matt’s job.  
   
“You can come in if you want,” Dom said distractedly to Stefan, who stepped into the room and began fishing through his pockets for something. While Dom brushed the hair out of Matt’s eyes, Stefan rescued their car keys and dropped them beside Dom on the bed.  
   
“Do yourselves a favour,” Stefan said grimly, “and get the hell out of here while you still can.”  
   
Dom looked up at him, then at the keys, before turning back to Matt. “Okay,” he said softly.  
   
“Seriously, Dom, when Damon wants something he gets it. I can’t hold him back forever. Don’t ever come back here.” Almost as an afterthought, Stefan continued, “That blood in Matt’s system - it’s kept him alive, but if he comes to any harm, if he dies while it’s still hanging around, he’ll be just like me. Like Damon.”  
   
Dom blinked, staring straight at Stefan.  _Did he_ really _just compare Matt,_ my _Matt, to Damon?_  Dominic looked back down at the man on the bed, having slowly shifted onto his side in his light sleep. Matthew, with his pretty blue eyes and rebel tooth and warm, beating and loving heart. They had nothing in common.  
   
“Matt’ll never be like Damon,” Dom said. “We’re going to go, Stefan. You don’t need to worry about us.”  
   
“I won’t have to if you drive away and never come back,” Stefan replied. “Good luck with the band, Dom. See you around.”  
   
He turned to leave. Dom smiled wryly. “No you won’t.”

*

Dominic was torn. Part of him wanted to stare at Matthew’s sleeping form in the passenger seat, making sure the smaller man was comfortable. The other part didn’t want to look away from the road for even a second, Stefan’s warning still ringing clear in his ears.  
   
Dawn was crawling above the horizon as they drove along that oddly familiar highway, not far away from where they’d broken down. It seemed like a lifetime ago. Dom sighed, eyes trained solely on the road even though the only thing he wanted to do was pull over and fall asleep with Matt in his arms.  
   
“Dom?” Matt blinked sleepily, shrugging awake from his slumber. His voice was thick, coated with sleep, and his eyes were a foggy sort of blue. His hair was tousled into disarray and dry blood crusted almost every inch of his previously white clothes. But to Dom, he’d never looked more beautiful. “Dom, y’know what’s funny?”  
   
“What?” Dom smiled at Matt, just for a second, and then his eyes swivelled back to the road.  
   
“I actually have something to thank Damon Salvatore for.” Matt absently reached up to scratch his neck, flakes of dry blood falling like snow.  
   
“Yeah?” Dom gave a short laugh, then glanced at Matt again. “Oh. Right. You’re serious.”  
   
“Wanker,” Matt muttered, a fond twinkle in his eyes. “No, I mean that if I hadn’t... I mean, if he hadn’t... if we hadn’t kissed and everything, there wouldn’t have been  _us_.”  
   
“I...” Dom didn’t know quite what to say, so he just stared at the road.  
   
“Dom,” Matt said softly, that look in his eyes again, and Dom risked it, just for a minute.  
   
“Yeah?”  
   
Matthew yawned, turning onto his side in the cramped space on the verge of sleep. “Next time,” he started, smacking his lips together with a timid smile. “We’re calling the AAA straight away.”  
   
Dom sniggered, keeping his eyes on the dark road ahead as they drove towards whatever city awaited them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, guys, this is the end. We loved writing this, every moment of it. It’s been a pleasure to share it with you guys. This was our first story, and although we've gone on to write bigger and perhaps better things, this little fic still holds a special place in our hearts as it's the one that united us. Awww. Thank you to everyone who has commented on our silly little fic. ♥


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